Rewind
by JustLikeAir
Summary: We were supposed to have it all but… she died… the love of my life… she died. So now, at evening's 6:49 on April 11th, I'll turn back the clock and change your fate! [ᗩᑌ]
1. April 11th Part 1

We were supposed to have it all but… she died… the love of my life… she died. So now, at evening's 6:49 on April 11th, I'll turn back the clock to do everything better!

.

.

.

༺✧۩ † ۩✧༻

 **• ← • REWIND • → •**

《 _Chapter I_ 》

 _'April 11th/ Turn back the clock'_

 _._

 _._

 _._

We've known each other since grade school. Now that I think about it, it's sad we didn't get to talking until middle school. She was what the other kids often referred to as a 'tomboy' whilst I was the well-known problem child. I still remember the time day she sucker-punched me for making her best friend – Bubbles - cry. I could still laugh at how she made both my eyes black for calling the girl cry baby cause well… Bubbles really knew how to let the waterworks go. A butterfly could have made her cry.

But this story isn't about Bubbles, so I'll continue. By high school, we were different people. We were closer, more inclined to each other and I spent so much time with her that we ultimately became best friends. I replaced Mitch. Heck, I even think I replaced Butch; it was just me and her against the world. We could have changed the world. He had it all.

 _But we never even noticed that until it was too late._

The most frightful time in her life, she came to me. Me. A simpleton. I wasn't Blossom, I wasn't Bubbles. Just Brick, the guy from around the block. The idiot who got suspended for someone else's cigarette. The dumbass who took the fall because of pride. I wasn't worthy of her trust. I knew that; heck, I still know that.

 _But she gave it to me anyway._

 _My best friend._

 _I miss you._

I still remember the fear in her eyes from that afternoon. She held within her hands a letter from her dream college; Genuisville U. I believe. Something she'd plan with her two girlfriends as they mapped their futures together. Blossom didn't say it, but she gave up Cornell to go there for her sake – _overheard her parents and mines begging her to go_ – and Bubbles just went wherever Blossom went because it seemed like the easiest thing to do. But there she was, shivering with fright as she clutched the letter in her hand.

"It's thin." She whimpered. She looked so lost. So weak; broken, un-Buttercup. Scared. "Like, really thing Brick, it's thin."

 _I knew._

"Come in," I remembered saying, bringing her into my kitchen for a quick glass of soda. She watched the bubbles float to the top and pop, then watched the water condense and fall to the bottom. This trivial cycle played in her mind as she distracted herself from what was her fate.

 _I already knew the answer, but I wanted to be there for her._

"We'll open it together," I remember saying. The way she clutched onto the paper broke a part of me, and for her sake, I gently patted her back, rubbing small circles into her more tense regions.

"I can't," she said, and I remember leaving her to gripe about it for an hour or so.

"Just open it." I relented and I remembered how hard she fought to keep the waterworks from falling.

I stayed in Townsville for her. For the sake of her mental well-being; I stayed. The people of Townsville were backward. Fearful of change and bigoted. But she was my friend, my best friend.

 _And I loved her dearly._

After a while, a part of me questioned if I wanted more. It happened two years after we graduated high school. I sat restlessly at my study desk taking notes from my recording of that day's lecture… I think it was materials class or something… I remembered the work being too difficult to wing. Anyway, Buttercup, already stressing over her own finals, had herself sprawled on my bed whilst she discussed the nitty gritty details of her recent breakup.

She said that he wasn't what she thought him to be. Some bullshit about the spark being gone and that he was a lame ass fella. That he only wanted to do things that he liked and never what she wanted. That he didn't understand the concept of compromise. That they were different people and…

… and that she wished the guys were more like me.

 _More like me?_

 _What the fuck's that supposed to mean._

So, I began thinking of the many ways she could have meant it. I remember it puzzled me to no ends and I even resorted to internet forums for was the second time that Buttercup had changed, and just as before, she became more interesting in my eyes. After losing weeks in thoughts of her stupid sentence, one thought came to mind; she just might like me.

 _Buttercup?_

 _Likes me?_

 _Nani dafuq?_

Wild right? So I gave it some more thought… and this took a strain on my already troubled relationship with my then girlfriend. The girl was sunshine and a gumdrop... and also everything that teenaged me wanted but… I grew up.

I'm wasn't a teenager anymore and… I just wanted stability. The type of stability which could possibly stem from a lifelong friendship… or so I thought. I wasn't sure yet. I was young. I was confused… and even now… I think I'm still confused but…

 _I miss my best friend._

Then, I got a glimpse of her true beauty in the spring. Special thanks to Bubbles, she'd been wearing a dress. A frilly pastel which was a mood alongside the blossoming flowers and the snow. I remember chuckling to myself, the only thing on my mind was, "So beautiful,"

"What?"

"Nothing," I said, fixing the lens on the camera. It was freaking freezing for me. Never mind she wore leggings and a pair of mittens, I remember wondering how the hell did she look so warm and appetizing.

Appetizing? I meant appealing, right? Or was it inviting I meat to say?

Whatever it was, I remember feeling strange. But… she was my best friend, I always loved her presence, so I chucked it up to that.

"The flowers?" she asked, tucking her hair back. So silly of her. She wasn't used to the length of her hair, wasn't used to it falling in her face with every movement. Wasn't used to it being past her shoulders and having a life of its own.

"Here."

"What's this?"

"Shh, a hair clip," her ears had been so warm, and I knew I had been staring but… she didn't say anything that time. So, I acted like I didn't know what I was doing.

"Uh, thanks?" She asked, and she smiled so brightly at me that time. She looked at me as if I were her world… and… it wasn't the first time.

She was my best friend.

My best friend.

And I loved her… as my best friend.

We both graduated perfectly single. We shared a kiss on new years eve, but nothing progressed after that. We bumped teeth the first time and felt nothing the second. To be honest, I only hurt when I saw her leave. Well… I left too, moved to Citiesville and reconnected with Boomer and Butch. Even shared an apartment with the two goofs. Girls came and went but the idea of stability still waned on me.

It took the announcement of Blossom's second engagement for me to meet her beautiful green eyes again. It was by chance, almost as if it were fate, and time finally felt on my side again.

"Brick!" she waved, and I was so shocked to see her that time. We shared a hug on the streets and I made fun of her new hair color; chestnut brown. Buttercup initiated a hug. Could you believe how shocked I was? I loved seeing her light; it made me feel like to moon to her sun and I loved that entirely.

 _Love?_ Not yet… wait a little longer.

"It's serious this time, the engagement party is next week,"

"Whatever happened to – "

"She… uh broke his heart. We don't talk about him anymore. But this one's Dexter. Apparently, we went to high school together, but I dunno. Either way, I'm happy for her!" Buttercup had said. She'd seemed more confident now, happier, at peace with herself.

"I don't think you'd be invited even if she had the wedding."

"Harsh, but I'll give you one win," I had joked, playfully pushing her arm as always.

"Yeah, you're probably not invited to this one either," she had said and shuffled her feet on the pavement a bit, "So… want to be my plus one?"

It was funny how we fell back into place after years of distance and no contact. She felt natural, and I loved that aspect of her.

 _Love?_

No, not yet.

"What about the mister?" I asked, peering for details. I'd hate to admit it, but she had been on my mind lately. I was twenty-eight by then… we were twenty-eight. I hadn't had a stable relationship in a while and I always wondered if I missed my mark years ago.

"My mister?" she awkwardly laughed. The way she swayed with he actions was cute, and she quickly apologized to the girl she'd bump into, "I should be asking you that, will there be an angry miss if you come along with me?"

"Not to my knowledge," I teased, and there it was again. We were flirting. She'd caress my face and I'd playfully nibble on her neck and then she'd leave before it got too serious.

 _What was it?_

These were the questions I asked myself frequently these days. What were we doing? Was she serious? Was I? Buttercup?

 _What am I to you?_

The cupcakes tasted nice. I think I believed that because I had been nibbling on it the whole time Buttercup had been gone. She was back at the bridesmaid table, catching up with longtime friends and I was stuck at… table number… I can't even remember. It was where they stuck all the bridal party's plus-one who didn't get an invite.

"That bitch really didn't invite me,"

"You never answered your phone,"

I rose my eyes in alarm, and there it was, the woman of the night, at my table. I looked behind her and saw Buttercup with her thumbs up, drinking a from a champagne glass with a glint of pride in her eyes.

"Congratulations," I remember saying, and I couldn't help but laugh at Buttercup's reaction from the distance. She was completely enjoying my surprise and she'd have to make it up to me later. I remembered Bubbles being a lightweight when we were younger, but now she seemed to be the queen of barflies.

"Don't say it"

 _I had to._

"Your cousin hasn't left the bar since… well,"

"Ugh," Blossom said, kneading her forehead, "But you should ask her out," she said. I didn't even bother to pretend I was confused. Amongst all the fake judging, I had been drinking too… and I probably couldn't muster a good poker face right now, so I deflected.

 _I probably shouldn't have._

"Last time we spoke, you told me that –"

"We don't say his name anymore,"

"You said he was the one,"

"Said, past tense. Things change… and are constantly changing. You should tell her,"

Never missing a beat, she maintained eye contact, "Say something, anything,"

"Hey," and there she was again, as my night in shining armor, "Boomer threw up on Butch's shoe and there might be a fight,"

"I'll get Bubbles," the bride had said in a flurry. So accustomed to expecting the worst from them, Blossom hadn't even realized Buttercup's blatant lie.

"Thanks," I said, and the warmth returned when she reclaimed her old seat.

"She looked beautiful right?" She said, and now Buttercup was acting weird again, "Hey Brick… remember what I said? When we were back in college?"

"Now we said a lot of things,"

"Yeah, but this one was serious,"

She was antsy, her thumbs were twiddling and… she couldn't look at me. "I'm getting old,"

"Every second,"

 _She looked serious._

"Blossom's married, Bubbles reconnected with the Blonde,"

"Boomer,"

"And…"

"Yes?"

"I'm getting old,"

"A fact," I don't know what had possessed me to take her hands that night, or as to why I let my self in either. By morning I knew what I was like to have my sheets smell like her. I knew the sound of her most private moments, and I knew she was serious about starting a family.

I should have embraced her earlier. I should have fought for her then. I should have told her my misguided emotions. I was scared. I was blinded. I was prideful.

 _I was confused._

She gave me everything and I got spoilt, so when she decided to head back home – Seattle apparently – I didn't want to tell her to stay. It was messed up but… I wanted her to like me more than I liked her. I wanted her to beg me to say the words I wanted to say. I was prideful. I was childish, I was foolish.

Then she turned thirty and I got the phone call.

"Happy Birthday!" I shouted but there was silence over the receiver, "Buttercup?"

"I'm ready,"

"Uh... okay,"

"You were serious back, then right?"

"Yes,"

And before I knew it, we were together. Three months strong and with much support from our family and peers. We bought a house and moved back to Townsville, two blocks away from Bubbles, a walk away from Butch and a half hour drive away from Blossom. I felt like my life was coming together and then we got the news that she was pregnant.

 _My best friend._

 _The mother of my child._

 _My whole world._

 _She's gone._

 _The baby's gone._

 _My life's gone._

 _I can't… breathe._

The house is empty. It's quiet. She's not baking bread. She's not yelling at me to season the meat. She's not baby proofing the house. Proof? I just scraped my arm on the broken countertop. The fire alarm is ringing. Water is dripping from the ceiling. Smoke is in the air.

 _Was I cooking?_

Her scent is gone. The laundry's backed up. Her favorite licorice is still there. Her conditioner is finished. Her indoor shoes are still at the door. The crib hasn't been set up. The nursery walls are in need f a paint job. The smoke is thick now, there are sirens in the air.

There's a broken cellphone on the ground. There's a cramp rushing through my legs. She isn't yelling at me to get out. _Why_? She isn't laughing at how I screwed up her recipe. _Why_? She isn't quarreling about wasting her groceries again. _Why_? She isn't –

\- fucking here now. Dammit!

Why?

Why?

Why?

Why?

 **WHY** …. Didn't I tell her I love her? Why didn't we start this sooner? Why didn't I kiss her goodbye? Why didn't I go instead? Why her? Why not me?

FUCK!

 _A do-over?_

 _What do you mean?_

 _._

 _Then…_

 _._

 _If I can go back in time…_

 _And make everything right…_

 _Then I'll make up for lost time…_

 _And make you mines again._

 _._

 _._

 _._

 _April 11th. Never forget._

.

.

ஜ۩۞۩ஜ

.

.

.

* * *

 **The author** _ **prohibits**_ **any re-publication - whether it be by** **duplication,** **translation or adaption- of this story** **without permission** **.**

* * *

A/N: A short multi fic. Hope you enjoy.


	2. Misstep: The Prologue

༺✧۩ † ۩✧༻

• ← • **REWIND •** **•**

《 _Chapter II.0_ 》

 _'Mistep: Prologue'_

 _._

 _._

 _._

Well, I hope that she was happy. Happy settling with me in that quaint little life of ours. She'd never say it, but I always knew she wanted more. She was just this, bundle of potential which never got to see the light of day. My sun, my light. _Oh, how I miss you._

Right now, the sky's grey – _no surprise there_ – and that's past the clouds of smoke. After a wish upon the stars, I fell into a sea of my own memories and all I could hear was variants of her voice calling out to me. To me? My name… seemed so bitter sweet off her lips, the lips I could no longer kiss, the smile I could no longer see.

 _I_ …

When the dust settled, I found myself all alone. The memories of her, becoming both my solace and my undoing. _I…_

I remembered a voice, as clear as a bell. So divine and sinister at the same time. It had the gall to ask me three questions in my confused state but… then again, my whole life had been a bubble of confusion. But we should get back to these question, because they're going to be the basis of my story, and the reason why I…

They all seemed quite simple back then, huh? _Do I believe in fate? Do I Believe in soulmates? What would I do for true love?_ Fucking bullocks, am I right? But after a while, especially after what I've done… there's no fucking way I could possibly answer those questions.

 _3\. What would you give up for true love?_

But at least the last one seemed easy right? Oh, come on; _what would I give up for true love_? I mean, the obvious answer should be _everything_ … right? Fuckin bullocks' man! But, after all this time had passed, I got to thinking; what _is_ true love?

What is a soul mate?

And what in the actual fuck is fate?

Fate? Screw fate! She took my best friend away from me! She made me feel this… weird! She's the reason for all this! Why the heck should I care?

And past me was cocky enough to pretend I knew it all, cocky enough to pretend I understood it all… and man I was fucking stupid. I've only been aged thirty-two when I first departed. What the fuck did I know back then? Turns out, I knew absolutely nothing about anything.

At the end of my story, you'll understand my dilemma and why the third question was the hardest of them all but for now, now I'll tell you the all the juicy details about how I rewound my life.

.

.

.

ஜ۩۞۩ஜ

.

.

.

* * *

 **The author** _ **prohibits**_ **any re-publication - whether it be by** **duplication,** **translation or adaption- of this story** **without permission** **.**

* * *

A/N: The original plan was to post the third update 10 minutes after this chapter (the prologue to it). However, as written on my profile, I cannot manage for a while. Still, I will try to get out my already completed chapters out instead of hoarding them.

Also, I didn't give an update on my situation for any pity so _please_ **refrain** from posting 'get well soon', or anything along those lines (because it makes me feel hella uncomfortable and pitied.)

If you usually don't review, then continue staying silent. If you're one to review, then please limit it to the story. Critique, flame, whatever, just... please no words of pity cause it'll only make me uncomfortable.


	3. Misstep: This isn't what You wanted!

" _Brick…"_

Her voice quietly rang in my ears, but my sky was nothing but a grey haze.

" _Brick, wake up,"_

Still stuck in my memories, visions of the previous past reminded me of just how foolish I was.

" _Please_."

Her gargled noise brought to me both comfort and loneliness. There was something so pitifully pleasant about bedding your own sorrows. Perhaps that'd been the reason I was doomed to make the same mistakes again. A smart man would've asked the gods for instructions; probably seek God himself and asked how this whole thing worked. I… well… I just didn't expect it to hurt this much.

" _You see that? You're going to have a baby girl!"_

" _I'm ready,"_

" _I'm getting old,"_

Who knew that even my most treasured memories would be so painful? Who knew light was nothing but blinding mess meant to hide my darkest moments?

" _Hey,"_

" _We don't say his name anymore,"_

" _You should ask her out,"_

My whole life seemed all too bitter and lonely. I did…. have good times but… it was a mistake… almost everything I've done was by mistake.

" _My mister?"_

" _Brick!"_

" _What's this?"_

And I was late to everything wasn't I? Even my own demise. Had I known the truth… the whole truth, I wouldn't have taken so long to realize.  
Such a fool I was… No sense of direction, no awareness of time… Just like I am now, lost, confused; **wanting to be found.**

" _What?"_

"… _guys were more like you."_

This was where things changed wasn't it? Why the hell couldn't I see it earlier? Why did I have to ignore it before? Was I that much of a foolish man?

" _I can't,"_

" _It's thin,"_

I should have encouraged her to study more. If I really cared back then, I would have pushed her to be the best person she could be. But I'll fix it this time. I'll make it so that she doesn't feel pain… that _I_ won't feel any pain.

These voices, they echo, they choke, they suffocate me because;

 _How foolish of me to try to give her the world._

.

.

.

༺✧۩ † ۩✧༻

 **•** ← **•** **REWIND** **• → •**

《 _Chapter II.1_ 》

' _This isn't what you wanted!'_

.

.

.

I remembered my eyes opening to another pair staring, the blindness of the ceiling light making it hard to discern a color. Well, that's a lie, but the part of me wishing it was green had been too stubborn to think coherently. She watched me in stillness as if waiting for me to make a move.

And when I got up, she spoke, "You're going to get yourself killed," a voice different than I remembered; less gentle, less apologetic and more scolding. A trace scent of vanilla shadowed her movement as she sat down on the chair besides my bed. The tone and pitch familiar but not quite.

"I… know," Everything was foggy; hazy, unsure. The dream had become too surreal and for a few seconds, I found myself believing. Why? Because everything seemed better than the truth. Everything was easier than the present, so I hallucinated an adventure and wished for the best.

 _As if time travel was actually possible._

"You have a thing for fire?" she'd asked, and despite the sharp change in tone, I'd recognize that orange hair anywhere.

"I'm in mourning okay!" _I shouldn't have snapped_ , "Give me a break!" _I should have just relaxed._ But her confusion made everything clear. And by everything, I mean…

"Wha–?" her confused scoff, forcing me to realize the change in my own voice; the evident change in hers. This bedroom, _my bedroom,_ was one I haven't slept in since I was eighteen. The dent I've left at age seventeen wasn't there yet and I almost cursed myself for not realizing this sooner — well, almost. "Wh-Who died?"

"What?" I'd asked, my revelation a bit scary. Blossom was a child — as was I . Dumb teenagers who probably hated each other. "Why?"

"Are you alright," her concern was one which made me feel at ease. Was this real? Was she real? Because fuck it, that girl was never this kind — Bubbles maybe, and I remembered Buttercup ignoring me most our lives but… I dunno man, in that moment, I was just grateful to see a somewhat familiar face.

The warmth of her palm touched my forehead and I even felt its quiver before it moved. I wanted to hug her and cry, call for Buttercup, then whine, but… I was an adult, trapped in the body of a teenaged child. So how the fuck could I be alright when my reality felt so cruel!

My wish; I didn't even think it through! _This_ wasn't what I wanted and it sure as hell wasn't what I needed. "Water," I remember begging but there was something important I forgot, and the younger Blossom was all too eager to remind me of it — _in the only way younger Blossom could._  
Fuck her.

"I've got it," she said, every inch of worry in her face making me think that everything would be okay; that it was safe to explain my issue… that she'd fucking help me because it was the right thing to do. But when she gaveled her fucking tiny hands into her open palm, I couldn't swallow my temptations any longer, "You've got a bad case of _the stupid_!"

There was a glint of humor in her eyes when she said it, and I couldn't believe I was actually _living_ in the days where we hated each other. And thanks to my younger wit, everything just got worse because her insult caused something to shift, and my teenaged lips seemed to have moved on its own. So, before I knew it, we had been arguing while I was trapped in my own head screaming ' _This is not what I wanted to say_ ', and I found myself remembering just how sucky I was as a teen.

"Why are you here anyway?"

"Your mom."

"Cut the bullshit Blossom, she don't know you." _Fuck that young tongue of mines._

"And if _you_ weren't **smoking** , she wouldn't."

 _How lucky of me to be reliving my greatest regret._

"But you're a…" _Don't say it,_ "B…" she squinted, and I swear to God, had I not stopped teenaged me from speaking, I wouldn't have been able to tell the rest of my story. I actually don't remember much of what happened after. I mean, I know a lot of yelling was involved and it was painfully taxing to keep my teenaged rage in check but I somehow managed and I think everything was calm… but then again, I haven't even reached the juicy bits. Man, screw my stupidity.

"You needed a good influence on your life and I'm a _good_ _influence_ ," her confidence a bit inspiring for a child.

"So you doing this 'cause… my mom put you up to it?"

"Well," she admitted, "Think more… _extra_ _credit_."

And somehow in between her explaining and my foggiest memories becoming clearer, I remembered; kind of. But it was hard multitasking. On one hand, I felt frustrated, I wanted her out and I wanted my room to myself, but in the other, I just… really needed someone to talk to, someone who I felt like I could trust. My snarky side wasn't allowing it though, and the more drained I felt, the stronger its hold got on me.

"How long we got to pretend we don't hate each other?"

"Come again?"

"I said —"

"Rhetorical – _idiot._ " she sighed, her hands digging through her purse. And while she did that, and the younger me was continuously glaring, my adult thoughts went haywire. 'Cause I did it!

 _I fucking did it._ I was rewriting my past. Granted, competition from my fucking teenaged emotions was a hiccup but… _I did it_ and —

"Are you even listening?" _No._ "Look, if your mom wasn't so big in the PTA, then —"

I probably should have tried to pay attention. If memory served right, this was the very arrangement that made Buttercup and I closer. It's just… the way Blossom's cheeks got red, and the degree to which my fists were clenched, I think I was smart to zone out for a second time… besides, it wasn't even my cigarette and I don't think adult me would have taken her scolding lightly.

"— are friends. Buttercup and I are friends. But You and I? No. Got that? It's not hate… and … why are you smiling? Stop smiling!"

But she was so adorable as a kid, and it made me even more excited to see Buttercup again.

.

.

.

"Why is he looking at me that way?"

She was eating, or at least trying to. Something about mashed potatoes and its uneven consistency had been the talk of the table. Honestly, seeing Buttercup's face was probably the first truly calming moment since the uh… move? Could I even call it that? Or jump… time jump. Or rewind. Yeah, that sounds good, the Rewind.  
I'm going to admit this one thing now. At first, I kept having these shitty thoughts about how inconvenient this time jump… _rewind_ had been for me… but… you know… those suspended days gave me a lot of time to think. You see, my youthful body was a fucking horror story that started with morning tents, afternoon hunger pains and way too much boredom. The phones were shit, social media were just a bunch of children and I've watched all the shows on television already.

It fucking sucked, but at least I got used to it. But then there was Buttercup, seated three persons away from me and she was laughing. I expected my heart to thump the same way it thumped when I saw my high school crush. In my head, I was fucking disgusted, but I still had no idea how to change my teenaged heart.

Her eyes kept glancing mines and I clearly remembered wishing I knew what she'd been whispering about. Her hair had been greasier than I remembered. The oils she used being a very fragrant coconut which Bubbles in particular consistently gushed about.

"Ignore him Buttercup," Bubbles had said, her whisper being a few octaves too loud as usual.

I remember seeing Blossom squint before leaving the table, and I can't believe I've forgotten how harsh her words were. They left, four persons, but I remember the grateful feeling as Buttercup remained with me…. and well… Butch and Boomer were also there, so I wasn't the specific person who made her stay. I suppose, most of her reasoning was because she'd been too lazy to move; something I semi related to.

"You're weird."

"Really, Boomer?" his bluntness apparently a constant. I guess Boomer was the only one who hadn't changed since high school. Throughout the day, I noticed he had the same drive as future him and he wasn't as playful or distracted as I remembered him to be. The boy was a dreamer, but he was unusually blunt and to the point.

"So, Buttercup?" I had to talk to her.

"Yeah?" her fork shuffling the potatoes and I swear she was glaring at the uncrushed clumps. You know, there were times I could've sworn she'd remembered our past… but it wouldn't have made sense if I thought about it. The truth was… I barely knew anything about high school Buttercup and that made almost everything difficult for me.

"How's school?"

Yeah… again. I wasn't prepared for this. This was… a new fucking experience and there wasn't really a how-to book which made fucking sense… add that to the fact that I had no idea how to talk to children and well, you get my dilemma.

"Loser," she mumbled and took her tray straight off to the table where her other friends had retreated.

Butch looked at me; pressed. "So three things," his hands fucking clasped together like he was masterminding, "Why were they here? What the fuck was that? And who the fuck are you?"


End file.
